


See-Through

by Rennwolf



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Animal Shelter, Galra gang, Ghost Keith, Lance wants to work for NASA, M/M, Mystery, Slow Burn, cop!allura, ghost!keith, major character death is for Keith because he be a ghost
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 14:17:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20277274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rennwolf/pseuds/Rennwolf
Summary: The day Lance turned twenty-two he moved into his first apartment. The cons of the apartment without a doubt outweighed the pros, but it was cheap, available, and the only thing in that area that wasn’t situated right next to known drug deal hot spots. It's too bad that it came with a transparent room mate who won't move out.But hey- that's just Lance's luck. Now its up to him to decide how this supernatural turn of events will change his life.





	See-Through

**Author's Note:**

> This Fic idea has been stuck in my head for ages and I can't wait to share it with you guys :)

The day Lance turned twenty-two he moved into his first apartment.

Fresh out of college but still only holding the same job he’d had since high school meant he didn’t have much money to work with. His apartment was closer to his job yes, but it was also closer to the bad parts of town where gangs like the Galra resided. The cons of the apartment without a doubt outweighed the pros, but it was cheap, available, and the only thing in that area that wasn’t situated right next to known drug deal hot spots. His family would probably have had a heart attack if he told them where he found his new home so he just… didn’t.

It’s not that he wanted to hide from his family or anything. He loved them with his whole being, but he needed his space and he didn’t want them worrying all the time. Or worse, trying to convince him to come back home.

This meant that he had no one to help him move in. Allura was busy over the weekend with some police force business and Pidge was on vacation with her family. So, with not a friend in sight, it was up to him to get all of his junk up the two flights of stairs to the second floor.

With a sigh he began the seemingly monumental task.

It hadn’t really been his plan for the future, you know? He had wanted to get out of college and get a job at NASA researching planetary botany. Humans had already been to half of Saturn’s moons so it was only a matter of time before people where living on Mars. However, it would seem that either NASA took more than a month to consider applications, or Lance just wasn’t cut out to be a part of them. His dreams were put on hold for now as he focused on simply surviving. His job now at the local pet shelter would have to sustain him until he could find something closer to his major.

It was on his fourth trip up the stairs that the door beside his apartment opened and a large man stepped out. He was tall and round and had dark tanned skin. He wore an orange head band that seemed more fashionable than functional and when he smiled it brightened the hallway.

“Moving in?” He asked. Lance nodded over top of the boxes and returned the smile.

“Yeah. The name’s Lance.”

“I’m Hunk.”

Lance snorted, looked him up and down and said flirtatiously, “You sure are.” Hunk laughed and held out a hand.

“Do you want some help with those?” Lance handed him the heavy box labeled Kitchen graciously.

“God yes. That would be great.” Lance stretched his arms over his head and let a satisfied sigh leave his lips when his shoulders popped. “I’ve got a bunch more in my car downstairs.” Lance opened the apartment door for Hunk who placed the box in the pile with the rest.

“Lead the way then.”

They chatted on their way up and down. Hunk’s family was Samoan and came to the states from Hawaii and Lance’s family was Cuban and had lived by the beach for a long time. They both talked about how they missed the ocean and Hunk talked about missing his family. He had left them to go to college here and he was one semester away from graduating. Lance was surprised to hear that Hunk was actually studying to be a spacecraft engineer and he had been going to the same college as Lance had.

“Damn, I wish I could have met you then. All of the classes that remotely referenced engineering went right over my head.” Lance said as he stepped out into the parking lot to grab the last set of boxes

Hunk shouted then, loud and forceful. It startled Lance, who froze in place after snapping his head back to give Hunk a confused look. His eyes were wide and they were looking to the left where a large SUV was barreling towards Lance at illegal speeds.

Lance’s mind shut down and he held his breath as the car was almost right on top of him. Hunk’s large hands grabbed his bicep and yanked him back. He was out of the path of the car, but Hunk pulled him so hard that both of them hit the ground, Lance’s head smacking the pavement and his vision going dark.

When he came to Hunk was over top of him and had his phone out.

“Don’t call police,” were the first words to leave Lance’s mouth and they left before his vision had even properly refocused. “Can’t afford…” he trailed off, losing the words that he had wanted and deciding that he was too groggy to try and find them. He was probably concussed.

“Well at least let me drive you to a hospital.” Hunk insisted. Lance saw him put his phone away before he closed his eyes again. The sun was very bright.

“Just a concussion. ‘Be fine.” When Lance didn’t hear an answer, he opened his eyes and saw Hunk looking around panickedly. “Am I bleeding?” Lance raised a hand to the back of his head and gently felt around. There was a lump forming but he didn’t feel anything wet and sticky so no blood. He held his hand out to Hunk to show him but he squeezed his eyes shut.

“If you’re bleeding, I’ll throw up.”

“No, there’s no blood. I’m okay.” The fog was beginning to clear and his vision had refocused. He sat up.

“Don’t sit up too fast or else you’ll-” The warning was too late. Lance’s stomach rolled and he was throwing up on the pavement beside him.

“Oh no oh no oh-” Hunk turned and Lance heard him lose his lunch. After a moment Hunk coughed and then muttered, “We are going to the hospital.”

.

The doctor had nothing helpful to say about the concussion. “Drink water” and “Rest up” were his only prescriptions. He couldn’t complain though because the hospital was a perfect example of how much worse it could be.

A little girl with a red nose and weak cough. A man with black hair that lay still as the dead, a man with white hair sitting by his side. A mother with her sobbing children surrounding her as she was given a diagnosis.

Oh, how he hated hospitals.

When they got back to the apartment Hunk offered to carry the last two boxes up alone and Lance let him. All he really wanted to do was go to bed and let the throbbing in his head subside. First though, two flights of stairs. He climbed up every step as if he had just run a marathon, brain swimming with every motion. Hunk passed him on his way up with the first box and his way down to get the second one. Lance was just happy he made it back to his apartment before he got the last one.

He stepped around the box and unlocked his apartment door. He hadn’t remembered closing it beforehand but then again, his memory wasn’t exactly reliable right now.

His apartment was depressingly bare at the moment.

It was laid out like one big room, an open kitchen with a breakfast bar on the far left with a tiny bathroom against the same wall. In the middle of the room there was space for a couch and dining area if he wanted to go that route. Finally, directly to his right was a closed closet and a bit further up was a small half-wall offering some privacy to the bed in the far-right corner that was lofted up two steps.

He held the door for Hunk as he put the box in the apartment and grabbed the one he had left outside the door as well.

“Thanks man. Sorry that you had to take me to the hospital… and that I made you throw up…” Lance winced at his own words. Talk about a bad first impression.

“It’s really no problem Lance. Maybe next time we hang out it will go a bit better.” Hunk said optimistically. Lance smiled; glad he hadn’t scared him off.

“As soon as I get Smash Bros set up, I’ll let you know.”

“Hell yeah!” One fist bump later and Lance was alone in his apartment.

The mattress had already been brought up and put on the bed frame, but it still needed sheets. He dug through some of the boxes before finding his baby blue sheets and dark blue comforter. Once the bed was made, he walked back to his pile of boxes, tripping over a raised floor board on the way and cursing when he stubbed his toe.

He knew he got a good price because the apartment was in a bad part of town, but he really thought it was in better condition than this. He didn’t have a hammer to get the nails back in so he just stomped on it until it was slightly more flush. With a tired sigh he sat on the floor with his back to the boxes.

He needed to brush his teeth and just go to bed, but the idea of bending over and `trying to find all of his toiletries weighed on him and he compromised to just sit for a minute.

Tomorrow he would have to unpack everything. Box after box of things all by himself. The day after that he had to go back to work. Then he’d come back home to an empty apartment and continue unpacking.

He was just… exhausted. He hadn’t even done anything yet and he felt weighed down.

His eyes followed the flow of the apartment and landed on the large window right in the middle of it all. It was one of the biggest reasons he had wanted this specific apartment. Sure, it was in his price range with a little wiggle room but the view! He was only on the second floor but the massive window let in beautiful light and a distant view of the park- the edge of downtown.

A little smile crossed his lips as he realized that he could see the sun setting over the small pond.

The smile twisted into a frown though, when the lights of his apartment flickered and sputtered out of life. He narrowed his eyes and pushed himself to his feet so that he could make his way to the light switch by the door. It was still in the on position. He gave it the old college try of “turning it on and off again” and was rewarded with a warm yellow glow refilling his apartment.

Great, now he could add faulty wiring to the list of reasons that his apartment was cheap. He shook his head to himself and turned back to the boxes. He riffled through the one labeled ‘BathrOOm” with dots in the ‘O’s to make them look like eyes and found a bag of everything he needed. He picked the box up and brought it to the bathroom and unpacked it. There were a lot of products but it wasn’t too hard to find a spot for everything. Admittedly Lance knew that he should get rid of some of the products he didn’t use as often, but he was a sucker for selfcare and face masks so he would just have to deal with dangerously full shelves and tread lightly when reaching for something in the back.

With that he brushed his teeth and quickly ran through his bathroom routine. When he stepped out of the bathroom he shivered and brought his arms across his chest.

It was _freezing_ out here. He could hear the air blowing through the vent against the wall and when he stuck his hand in front of it, it was warm.

“What is going on?” he muttered to himself. Something flickered in the corner of his vision but when he turned to catch it there was nothing there. He rubbed a hand down his face.

It must be something from the concussion. You can get hallucinations from those right? 

Right?

It didn’t matter. There was no one else here… Except… now that he thought about it… it kind of felt like there was something-

No! No. Nope. He shook it off. He shouldn’t dwell on it. He would just go to bed and forget about it.

He checked the thermostat and made sure that it was still set to 70 before stripping out of his pants and climbing under the covers with his shirt and boxers. It was too cold right now to do anything else so he closed his eyes and told himself to keep them that way even when he thought he felt eyes on him. He eventually fell into an uneasy sleep.

.

In the morning it was just as cold as when he went to bed so he pulled on a pair of sweats before he started unpacking the kitchen box. He sifted through it until he found some of his dishes and grabbed a box of cereal from the dry foods box his mother had so graciously provided. He put all of the dishes away before he took down his favorite bowl, one he and his niece had made together that had a little cat face painting into the side, and grabbed a spoon.

He had the cereal poured in the bowl and his stomach grumbling before he realized he didn’t have any milk. He laid himself face down across the breakfast bar and let out a groan. In the back of his mind he swore he heard someone laugh at him but a quick scan of the apartment told him he was wrong.

He could ask Hunk for some milk?

No, he didn’t want to bother the poor guy anymore than he already had.

With a groan of defeat, he stood, grabbed his keys and wallet, pushed his feet into a pair of slides, and walked down the street to buy a quart of milk from the Dollar General. He got back, cereal waiting for him and immediately poured himself a healthy serving of milk into the bowl. After putting it in the fridge he grabbed his breakfast and stood in front of the big window. Of course, the kitchen had a window with the same view and a counter he could put his food on, but he would rather stand and hold it in front of the window that started at his knees and ended about a foot over his head. He ate silently and wished his family was there to enjoy the view with him, but knew that wasn’t an option.

“I need to go visit them.” He noted to himself. It had only been a few days since he last saw them.

With a sigh he made his way back to the kitchen, careful not to spill the left over blue stained milk in his bowl. He had almost reached the sink, which was right in front of a window when he screamed.

Leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest was a man. The light streaming though the window seemed to stutter before passing through his whole body, making his transparency all the more obvious.

Lance’s bowl tumbled from his hands and he didn’t even try to catch it as it hit the floor and broke in two, milk spilling everywhere.

“You can see me?” The man asked, dark eyebrows raised, leaning forward off of the counter and stepping closer. Lance scrambled backwards to get as far away as possible and get _out_ of his apartment, but his foot slid in the milk and he fell back against the bathroom wall before sliding to a stop on the floor.

“Hey can you hear me? I know you can see me.” The man came closer and towered over Lance’s prone form. Panicked Lance kicked out to try and push the man back. His leg just passed through the other’s knees.

The man above him shuddered. “Don’t _do that_, fuck, you have no clue how weird that feels.”

“What are you?! Leave me-” Lance’s words died in his throat as he caught sight of the man’s face. It stunned him for a moment as he met almond shaped purple eyes, dark eyelashes framing them and making them pop. Was that because he was a ghost?

_Fuck_ there was a ghost in his apartment. Lance voice came back to life and he shouted for help and kicked through the apparition again.

“Cut it out!” The ghost moved away and Lance used that opportunity to get the hell out of his apartment, barely remembering to snatch his keys off the counter before he escaped.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw Hunk opening his own and looking at him with worry. “Are you okay man?” He asked as Lance breezed past him. He didn’t respond, too worried about the fact that the ghost could be _right on his heels_ and the feeling of being watched followed him as he ran all the way to the park. It wasn’t until he was collapsing heavily against a bench, breathing hard and his head pounding in agony, that he let himself process what just happened.

He had a roommate.

A dead one.

He hadn’t been informed about this before he signed the lease and he wondered for a moment if it voided such a thing. Don’t they have to tell you when someone died in a house that you want to buy? Maybe it didn’t count with apartments?

The ghost never actually did anything to hurt him. Just, scare the living daylights out of him. He had seemed pretty excited when he realized Lance could see him, so maybe Lance was the first person to know about him…

He put his head in his hands and willed the pounding to go away. Man, he wished he had some water right now, but he didn’t even bring his wallet. At least it was nice out and he wasn’t cold.

Was the ghost the reason all of those weird things were happening in his apartment? In some of the horror movies he had seen the room would get cold and the lights would flicker so it was a possibility.

He had so many questions.

How did the dude die? Why was he haunting Lance’s apartment? Who was he? Who had he been? Had he seen what the afterlife was like and decided he didn’t want to go?

The ghost hadn’t seemed angry or resentful so maybe he was approachable? Lance could admit he might have jumped the gun a bit in his assumptions.

Lance’s heart had finally stopped beating 100 miles a minute and before he knew it, he was making his way back to his apartment.

The walk back took longer when he wasn’t sprinting like his life depended on it. It was also a lot more uncomfortable now that he was covered in sweat and his shirt was sticking grossly to his armpits.

When he opened the door to his apartment the lights were flickering angrily and the man was standing directly below the main light, slowly becoming more tangible. The lights stayed fully off when the ghost noticed Lance, natural light flooding the room and having a much harder time passing through the man than it did before.

Lance gulped and forced himself not to look as intimidated as he felt.

“You’re back.” The man stated matter-of-factly.

“Yeah.” Lance didn’t say anything further, all of his rehearsed speeches flittering out before they could reach his tongue.

“So, you could hear me.” The man frowned

“Yeah.”

They just stared at each other, neither speaking. Eventually the man took a step forward and Lance subconsciously flattened himself back against the door, keys digging into his hand.

“Um.” The man took a step back.

“So, uh. What’s your name?” Lance made himself stand up straight and step away from the door.

“Keith.”

“I’m Lance.”

There was more awkward silence as they stared at each other. Lance finally let himself take Keith in. He was about the same height as him with black hair that almost brushed his shoulders and shaggy bangs that fell in his eyes. His jaw was strong and led to a porcelain neck with a hint of something dark and red just peeking out from the collar of his black shirt. The middle of his shirt was darker, the stain spreading in all directions. A gouge mark was in the center of it all, deep and if Lance squinted, he could swear that it was still oozing blood.

“So-” Lance clicked his tongue and made a fist and hit it to his chest, imitating being stabbed.

“Yeah.” Keith brought a hand up, as if to cover it before letting it drop back to his side. The vulnerability of the motion made something in Lance relax. He seemed just as unsure as Lance was about this whole thing.

Lance moved over to the kitchen and put his keys on the counter before he saw the mess he had made earlier. He groaned and dug through the box beside the cabinet until he found the paper towels. “What were you doing when I walked in?” He asked as he started to soak up the spilled milk. He kept an eye on Keith as he walked around the breakfast bar to watch Lance work from a reasonable distance.

“I was just… charging? I guess you could call it that. It’s hard to interact with this world sometimes and when I absorb energy it helps.”

Lance looked for a place to throw the wet paper towels and settled for the sink until he could create a trashcan out of the empty bathroom box. “So, _you’re_ the reason it’s so cold in here. Did you do the thing with the lights yesterday too?” He asked.

“Yeah. I was a lot weaker yesterday and it took me a while to focus.”

“Focus?”

“It gets fuzzy sometimes.”

“What gets fuzzy?” Lance asked as he threw the last towel in the sink and found his bowl. He gasped when he found it in two pieces. “My bowl!” He raised his hands to show Keith.

“What? I didn’t do it. You’re the one who dropped it.”

Lance looked at him angrily. “You scared me and _made_ me drop it!”

“That isn’t my fault.” Keith insisted.

“Yes, it is you stupid ghost!” Lance’s niece was going to be so upset when she found out.

“Whatever you gotta say to make yourself feel better.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest and turned his gaze away.

Oh, Lance could play this game. After a quick “Urg!” of frustration he put the bowl on the counter to be superglued back together later and promptly walked out of the kitchen to his pile of boxes.

If his ghost wanted to be an asshole, he could be an asshole by himself.

Lance grabbed the box labeled clothes and got to work unpacking it.

“Lance?” Keith asked from the kitchen. Lance ignored him and put a shirt on a hanger. “Lance?” He asked again, much closer this time and his voice wavering with an emotion Lance couldn’t name. He put the shirt in the closet and didn’t acknowledge Keith.

When he spun back to get another shirt Keith was right in front of him and Lance couldn’t hide the squeak of surprise as he brought a hand to his chest to try and still his heart from the outside. “Don’t ignore me.” Keith spoke with such force that his words chilled Lance’s bones. “Please.” He added as an afterthought. When Lance nodded his head, Keith stepped out of his personal bubble and just watched as Lance continued moving clothes into the closet and putting them on hangers.

“Why are you here?” Lance asked around the half way point. He didn’t get a response immediately and when he looked, he saw Keith had an eyebrow raised in question. “This apartment, why are you here?”

“I died here. I can’t leave.” He sighed, looking towards the door with a frown. “I’ve tried.”

“Are all ghosts stuck where they died?”

“Gee Lance, I don’t know. Why don’t I call up all of the other dead people in the apartment and ask?” Lance narrowed his eyes at him, stilling for a moment.

“You don’t have to be so harsh. I was just curious; I’ve never met a ghost before.”

“Yeah, well neither have I.” Keith spat back. Lance paused for a moment, taken back by his anger.

“You’re a real asshole you know that.” Keith blinked as if snapped out of a trance before scowling and going to sit in the kitchen, still in view of Lance, like he was in timeout.

Lance rolled his eyes and put another shirt on a hanger. He barely even knew this dude and it was almost as if they each had hit a nerve in the ten minutes since meeting. Lance didn’t know why he jumped from regular old dude to cranky spirit, but maybe he had never been a nice person in life either.

He put the shirt in the closet and spared a glance over at his ghost. Keith was staring daggers at the bathroom and Lance wondered momentarily if he could make something bad happen with just a stare. It looked scary enough.

“Hey, man.” Lance caught his attention, the purple eyes turning to him. “How long have you been here?”

That- that wasn’t the question Lance wanted to ask. He was surprised at the words to come out of his mouth, almost as much as Keith seemed to be.

“I’m not really sure. It could be a month or maybe two, but sometimes I don’t have enough energy and I fade out. I don’t know how long that lasts.” He turned his gaze out the window as he spoke. He seemed angry. Or maybe sad.

“When was the last time you talked to someone?” Lance had stopped hanging his laundry altogether, devoting all of his attention to Keith.

“When I was still alive.” When Lance didn’t respond immediately, he continued. “And I don’t even remember all of that.” Now he had his hands in fists by his sides, trembling as he glared at the floor.

“So, you’ve been stuck here for months with no one to talk too, nothing to do, and no idea why you haven’t passed over yet?” Lance could feel his tongue getting away from him and he cringed at the knowledge that he had most surely over stepped his bounds.

Keith clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. He looked like he wanted to explode, even opened his mouth with a grimace as if he was about to, but then he snapped it shut, looked down in thought, and nodded his head.

He must have been so frustrated. Anyone would be if they were stuck in limbo watching people around them interacting without being about to interact themselves. Lance knew in that moment that he would have to do whatever it took to help him get where he belonged.

“You must have been bored out of your mind. I think I’d go crazy without being able to talk to someone every day.” Lance said as he took the rest of the shirts out of the box and put them on the bed. He grabbed the empty box and went to the kitchen, pulling trash bags out of a box beside Keith.

“I’m used to being alone. Well- I think I am. I can’t remember any family or friends. Or much of anyone.” Keith watched as Lance turned the box into a trash can and threw the paper towels from the sink into it after ringing them out. “But yeah, it does get really boring here.”

“No family or friends? With the way you look that’s not possible.” Lance muttered the second sentence as he settled the trash can at the end of the breakfast bar.

“What?”

“I mean, maybe you can’t remember. You just need to get your memories back- maybe that’s what you need to pass on?” Lance gauged Keith’s reaction as he leaned against the counter. He was biting his lip, rolling it between his teeth as he thought. “You’ve gotta remember something at least.” Lance pushed.

Keith glared at him from the ground. “I barely remembered my name when I first woke up.” When Lance continued to wait he let out a sigh. “Yeah, I vaguely remember the whole dying part. Someone broke into the apartment; they were waiting for me when I got home and I tried to get to the knives because I didn’t have mine on me.” He pointed to a corner of the kitchen counter that must have housed a knife block. “I know I grabbed one, but when I turned around, they sunk their own knife in my chest.” Keith brought a hand to the wound, he didn’t touch it, just hid it from sight. “It’s all kind of fuzzy.”

“Do you have any idea why they tried to kill you? Or who they were?”

“Not tried to kill, _killed._” Keith jestered to his transparent form. Lance rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean- Its kind of hard to think of you as dead when I’m standing here talking to you.”

Keith huffed and stood up so that he could lean on his side of the counter. “I…” He turned his gaze out the window. “I think I knew. When I was still alive. I feel like it had to do with my job, whatever that was.” He put his hand on his chin. “Something to do with research? I remember a lot of paper work.”

“How old are you anyways?” Lance narrowed his eyes. Maybe he was an office worker, he was young- so a paper pusher at an entry level job?

“Twenty-three.” Keith answered. So that crossed out any high-level jobs. Probably.

“Did you go to college?” All Lance got in return was a shrug. “You at least finished high school though?” Another shrug. “Maybe you remember having homework?” This wasn’t even answered with a shrug, just a glare. “Fine, fine.” Lance thought for a moment. “You have a last name, don’t you?”

“It starts with a ‘K.’”

Lance nodded; he could work with that. He pushed off the counter and grabbed a box labeled FRAGILE. He pulled it open and fished around for a bit before pulling his laptop out and booting it up. He connected to the Wi-fi and pulled up google.

He typed “Keith K.” into the search bar and got 240,000,000 results along with a lot of entries about some Keith Haring guy. Ghost Keith watched over his shoulder and laughed at him.

“Nice going dingus. You should at least type in the city and state.” Lance stuck his tongue out at Keith but did as he said. This time he only had 3,270,000 results to comb through, but it seemed a lot of the ‘K.’s were for middle names so he was able to ignore those at least. As he was scrolling, he realized that it was already 12pm and he hadn’t gotten nearly as much unpacking done as he needed.

“Can you interact with things?” Lance looked over his shoulder at Keith who was staring intently at the screen.

“What? I’m interacting with you?”

“No no no, I mean can you like, touch things as a ghost? Make them move?” Keith seemed uncomfortable at the question.

“Yes. But it takes a lot of effort and energy.” Lance thought for a moment. He pulled out his wireless mouse and plugged the little flash drive into the computer.

“Can you interact with this? I really need to get this stuff unpacked before work tomorrow.” Lance took a step back and watched as Keith glared at the mouse for a moment before reaching towards it. As his pointer finger ran down the scroll wheel it became more solid while the rest of the skin around it faded. The images on the screen moved, showing that he had done it. As Keith pulled his finger back, he shuddered. He looked much less tangible than he had while talking to Lance just a minute before.

“I really don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to… do…” Keith turned to the screen, trailing off as he examined a link. “This.” He jabbed a finger at the screen and Lance stepped beside him to see what it was. “Click this.” Keith demanded.

It read “Keith Kogane, P.I.” the web address was kkoganepi.com. Lance clicked on it and was led to a very simple red and black website with a few blocks of text at the top that described what job would be done and at the bottom was contact information like email and a phone number. There was no office address.

“This is it. This was… me.” Keith kept his eyes locked on the screen mouth slightly open and moving as he read the words. “I…”

When Keith didn’t seem like he was going to continue his thought Lance spoke up. “Did you work alone?”

“Yeah. I remember that now. I didn’t have a partner or anything… It feels like I’m missing something though. Like its on the tip of my tongue but I just can’t-” Keith brought a hand to his head and buried his fingers in his hair. Sensing a change in the atmosphere Lance put himself in front of the computer to block it from his view.

“Hey, we made progress and I’ve only known you for an hour. We are going to figure this out, okay?” Keith was looking at Lance but he wasn’t actually seeing him. “Keith?” Keith blinked, refocusing. “We will figure this out, okay? Don’t overwork yourself on this, you have all the time in the world.” Keith looked away guiltily before nodding. “Atta boy!” Lance went to give him a slap on the back but stopped himself right before his swished through the ghost. He pulled back only somewhat awkwardly before giving him a small smile and turning back towards the boxes he needed to unpack.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](https://renncandraw.tumblr.com/) and [insta](https://www.instagram.com/renncandraw/?hl=en) if you love me- because I love you.  
Share this with your friends if you like what you see! <3 Have a lovely day/night!


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